A Lovely Pair of Friends
by HandyDanny
Summary: How Beyond Birthday and Matt got along with each other back in their Whammy House days. Rating may go up in later chapters. Rewriting and updating.
1. Memory

**Note:**  
**Terribly sorry for all of the delays. :C After my computer lost internet connection for nearly a month, updating here slipped my mind rather easily. Especially since school started back. But I'm on Fall Break now, a two weeks I'm cherishing. :D I recently realized I even had work on here, and re-read some of it. ...I was not too happy with some parts, ahaha. |D So I've decided to spend my free time re-writing this, and possibly the others I have, if I don't just.. you know.. delete them. :( But, despite this, I do actually have intentions on writing some newer things, exciting.**  
**But again, I apologize. Hopefully the updated version of this story will appeal more to you all? c":**

Sometimes, I wonder about why I wind up in places I've been brought to. My mind will expand then, taking the curiosity beneath it's wing as it takes me back and hunts for it's prey - reasons to feed this itching wonderment. Though I know my surroundings are aware of me; my shagged, unkempt auburn hair, my too-pale lips that are stained with pink and seem to always be parted in some way, my scrawny figure making movements that would recall a spider, I don't really seem to be aware of them. It's especially this way when I start really thinking, more-so about the past. Was the past that I could remember in very quick flashes of colour and emotions really mine? Things were so different from then. So my mind will delve down to retrieve memories, taking them from this photo album that keeps them all together in a clumsy fashion. And one by one, I look through them like my own personal slide show, flipping through the pictures. Some are older and more worn than others, I see, and it is the very oldest I seem to treasure the most.

Memories flood my brain uncontrollably, my mind still soaring with the squirming wonderment to pick out reasons. Why was I here? Mello told me to come; I wanted to. Why was I given the option? It's not like either of us wanted to part. His sanity seemed to play a role in this as well. Why was I even able to get the option at all? Our childish faces, rounder and innocent, brimming with good feelings as we played a game to introduce ourselves to each other issued by Quillish himself. Why was I able to play this game? My father's fingers slipped from the wheel, the rain and acceleration sending the vehicle skidding before sliding over the metal flanking either side of the street and into the stirring waves below. And further still, the questions would go, until I found myself satisfied and bored.

However, there was one photo in my memory that seemed to float up to the surface on my brain more than others, turning and swaying in a near grim way, as if it could sink at any moment. This picture, not the oldest yet still it is the one with the most damage from being looked at and handled so much, is of a young boy with messy dark hair. He's wearing a smile that lifts his lovely and pale-toned cheeks, that shows his teeth in a perfect and childish way. The boy's eyes are closed, as if this feeling of utter bliss he must be having is simply too much for him.  
While I think of this picture so often, it is very rare I even consider letting my mind wander off to the origin of it. I don't know if I'm too scared, too angry, too uninterested. But I know this picture is one that changed and caused much for me, even if it didn't effect where I currently was at all.

There's a story, from Norse mythology, that says that the universe is made up of nine worlds, all held within a large ash tree called Yggdrasil. The lower part of this great tree, Yggdrasil, holds two worlds - Muspelheim, land of fire; and Niflheim, land of cold and ice. The middle of the tree has Midgard, land of humans; Jotunheim, land of giants; Svartalfheim, land of dark elves; and Nidavellir, land of dwarves. And at the very top of Yggdrasil - Asgard, land of gods; Alfheim, land of elves; and Vanaheim, land of Vanir gods and goddesses. In the very roots of Yggdrasil, three old crones reside - Urd, the crone of fate; Skuld, the crone of necessity; and Verdandi, the crone of being. Here they weave the "tapestry of fates". Each person's life represents a thread in their loom, and the length of this thread represents the length of the person's life.  
I remember him telling me this once, years ago, and I never forgot it. The idea of Urd, Skuld, and Verdandi interested me in an odd way. Did they ever forget and weave things more than once? Or did they get something akin to writer's block?

What I do know about this tapestry, about those old crones, is that they included this boy in the picture in my thread on the loom. Sometimes I wonder why, and then why again even after I come up with reasons. This boy - he's important to me. My mind goes numb, the picture ceasing it's gentle movement on the surface of my memory. A part of me tells myself to tap it, to send it fluttering down into the depths to be forgotten. But another part is transfigured, staring. I find myself staring too, the former part of me growing irritated the longer I wait to push the photo under. ..I do not want to push it under, do I? I want to think about it. I want to think about that boy.  
Though, proxy to this, haven't I already thought about him? The picture is there, always, the smiling face imprinted on my brain. What did it want from me, exactly? I can see how worn it really is, crumpled and torn, faded in colour. Yes, I want to think about this boy.  
I lift the picture off of the surface. I center it, give my full attention to it. I listen as it begins to play movies in my head, memories.

What do you want from me?

**Note:**  
**..Yeah. Much word vomit, but I wanted to give the story more depth, as you'll be able to see later on. XD"**  
**Clearly, it's in Matt's perspective, though it might change later. Do not worry; I'll always tell whose point of view it is before hand so you aren't confused. (:**  
**I guess this is sort of like a preview, so get ready for flashbacks.**


	2. Friends

One thing never seemed to change about the orphanage. No matter the season, weather, or circumstances, everyone had to be doing _something_. I would hear them, sometimes feel the faint rush of wind against the back of my neck as they ran by me in the halls. Or I would watch them, catch glances of them out the window as they scattered about the front lawn in a game of soccer, occasionally kickball. Very rarely was I out to join in.

But today was something different. Warmth pooled from the vents that I would pass every now and again, but only briefly could I actually feel it. I was running. The sleeves of my shirt were pushed up to my elbows; too hot, even though it was a chilling twenty-three degrees outside. He's chasing me, using his years of being on the track team for his school prior to being here to his full advantage. I really can't tell if it is my own heart I'm hearing, thudding in my ears loudly, or the sound of his feet, pounding along inches away. This thought makes my heart beat faster. I need to hide.

As I turn quickly, nearly sliding out from under myself in my socks, I hear him shout my name - the name I was given second. Mello is not going to let me off easy. There's not even a possibility, even though what he's done to me is much worse than what I've done to him. I round into another hall, grabbing the corner for support with my free hand. The other holds what Mello wants - the reason why he's chasing me like an animal. The paper and foil covering on the candy is warm, locked tightly between my palm and fingers. Mello is going to kill me. But no way is he going to win first.

I slide off into a room, fumbling and breathing heavy as I consider closing the door - no, he'll know where I am then. I turn, look for a place to hide. But instead, I find a rather startled boy, older than me even though his features hardly show it. There was something about him though, something I kept staring at. His eyes were a bloody red, faint in the sunlight coming in from the window behind him. He looked like some type of myth, like he wasn't even real. The light from the window floods about him, blurring his features from me softly. He's pretty, I think, before the thudding of my heart or of Mello's feet comes back to my mind. I struggle for words with my rasping breath.

"Gotta hide. Shh." is all I mumble out, grinning stupidly at him before moving over and yanking him down into the corner of the room with me. He's surprised still, beautiful lips parted and crimson eyes still widened, but he obeys me. And so we stay there, me pressed against the wall and him to my side and chest. I've got to keep him from Mello too - no way will he get let off if the blonde finds out he hid me. My breathing is slowing, but still shaky as I try to make myself as small as possible. I watch the older boy gradually push his lips together again, as if he's calming down, too. It can't be my heart I'm hearing now; the shouts are getting closer.

"God _damn it_, Matt! So help me- if I find you!" I'm smiling, but the boy is not. He's confused at me. Or is it anger on his face? That was a bridge I'd cross when we were safe. I hear Mello slam a hand on the doorframe, and I'm tense for a moment. His ragged breathing is only across the room, and I grip the boy tighter to express my fear to him unknowingly. He pulls us down lower slowly, trying to get us hidden by the bed before us. I hear a fist on wood, then more running. Fainter, fainter. Gone. I'm not going to die after all, and I've won. I fall away from the boy, laughing and gasping. He keeps staring with that blankly curious gaze.

"Thanks a bunch," I smile, and he blinks once before knitting his eyebrows together. His lips are parted again, and I can't tell if he's cute or stunning. Then he speaks, his voice low as if talking was a foreign concept to him. "..What?" Now I'm blinking, smile much more vague. He's angry? "I.. look, I'm sorry, but he would've killed you." Not the best apology, I see - he looks even more confused. "Who? Why?" he questions me, and I almost feel scared. The bloody gaze is strong now; have I fallen into a more dangerous trap? "Oh, e-er. Mello. He was chasing me, had to hide." There's a look of what appears to be consideration on his face now.

"If I may, why was he chasing you?" For a second, it seemed like _he_ was scared of _me_. "I.. stole his chocolate bar." When I noticed his lips start on more syllables, I started again quickly, "But only because he trashed my PSP! That's all. It's like a game, get it? Only if Mello finds you in the game, it's like you're instantly dead. So I had to hide, and you, too." Slowly, he raises a brow, and I can't help but laugh a little. "Really am sorry, ...?" Nearly hesitant, he replies, filling in the blank and nodding once. "..Beyond." I grin, though I'm interested at the same time. He has such an odd name, compared to mine. "Matt." I respond and I hold a hand out to him, which he takes in his own, shaking lightly.

Never before was I able to talk to someone even this much with such freedom. It was all scary with a lot of other people, unless I had Mello to back me up. But now it was just me, and just Beyond, and I was talking smoothly. "So.. are we okay?" I ask, still grinning faintly. He nods at me slowly again, and slides away from the wall to sit on his knees. He was a very delicate frame, though it's different from Mello's - almost.. tougher looking. This seems impossible to me; Mello could take down anyone, I thought. Beyond wears a shirt that's off by one size, the sleeves nearly going to his fingernails. It's a very soft material, I can tell, and has white trimming the edges while the rest is a grayish black. I remember the feel of his hand from moments ago - he's cold. Was there a vent in his room? Or had he been by the window too long?

He realizes the silence before I do, and looks away idly before looking back at me. "You have chocolate on your hands, you know." It took me a moment to register what this meant, and I flushed a bit when I finally did. "O-Oh, yeah. I do," I say as I look down at my hand, trembling from being tensed around the candy so long. I lift my hand, pushing a finger into my mouth to clean it before holding the treat out to him with my free one as a mute offer. I'm slightly puzzled when he shakes his head, but I catch what looks like a smile on his face. It's better than his confused expression, I decide. Once my hand is damp with my own saliva, I dry it on the side of my shirt and pull down the sleeves of my striped shirt.

"No? You sure? I owe you one, B." I can tell that the nickname has touched something in his brain, and he shakes his head slower than before, eyes blinking once. "Come on, please?" I say, and I'm laughing, but I don't know why. "At least do it so I can go back to Mello empty-handed." His eyebrows furrow again, his head tilting. "..Won't he be even more mad at you?" I pause, then furrow my own eyebrows. No one's ever questioned our game with sheer logic before. Mello would probably hit me a few times, but that was just the game. "Yeah, but.. would 'ya just take it? I'll have half if you do, too. Okay?"

Beyond does not sigh, and his expression does not change. He simply nods in submission, and watches as I grin and snap the softened bar in the middle before tearing the wrapping down through the part - no need for more mess on either of us. He takes his with near wonderment, looking at it as if curious as to what it was. "Really?" he says suddenly, and I blink as I try to hurry down a chunk of chocolate. "Yeah, sure. We're friends, right? It seems like it." He looks at me, head inclined and yet again his lips are parted. He does sort of what I do; mouth slightly open to suggest a daily and unknown confusion.

"..Friends. Right." he says back, and when he looks back down and slowly takes in some of the treat for himself, I can tell he likes the word. We're in silence then, until we're both done with our own half, and I make a move to stand with a heavy sigh, stretching. My knees hurt from being in that position for so long. "Well.. since we're friends," I begin, and he looks up at me with that usual lost gaze, "..I think it only makes sense that I see you around some time, yeah?" Beyond looks pondering, lips pursed before he nods once and answers. "That does make sense. For friends." I beam; I like that word, too. "Then promise me it'll happen, alright? I might even come back later or tomorrow."

"Okay, Matt. I promise." Beyond says, and he brings a hand through his dark, raven coloured hair before I take it into my own hand. He flinches, and looks at our hands and then my eyes as I allow the smallest of my fingers to latch onto his, giving them a tug. "Now you've really promised me, B." I smile, and let his hand go. He looks at it in such an odd fashion, examining it as if I've done something to mark it. "We have?" he says, almost absently. "Yes, silly. That's a pinky promise, and I can assure you it really means a lot." Hesitantly, he looks back up at me and nods once, "I see. So I will really see you again." Now I nod, and laugh lightly. "You're kind of weird, Beyond. I like it."

Blinking up at me, he gradually lets his hand lye back down on his knee. "I'll see you later, then. But right now, I've got to go make sure Mel isn't harassing some poor innocent kid." Smiling faintly, I wave at him before turning and heading for the door. Though I pause before touching the knob, and see he's still looking back at me. My lips soften the grin they're in, and I hold up my pinky finger, nodding.

"It's a promise."


End file.
